


A Darkness Spreading

by ArtemisWalsh



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games), Dark Souls I, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8559175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisWalsh/pseuds/ArtemisWalsh
Summary: Once, there was a city of gold. Oolacile.It's shine lay not in riches, but in the magic of light that coated the halls and streets.But a cruel serpent, in a fashion most ironic, taught Oolacile's citizens of a doorway.And through that doorway, the expansive black abyss tumbled out.The city fell, it's citizens mutated into abominations and its streets coated in the sickening rot of the Abyss.And even the legendary Knights of Gwyn failed to truly snuff out it's black flame.For the citizens of Oolacile still live in their thousands, infesting the city unmitigated.It is the design of the serpent, and few know of their plots. Fewer still would resist them.





	1. Chapter 1

The steel boot sank into the bloathead’s flesh. For a moment, its owner worried that the supposed death blow was ineffective. But sure enough, the creature’s arms released their grip, and the familiar death rattle sounded. The woman, clad in the armor of a dead knight serving a dead god, pulled her boot from the bloathead. From the corner of her eye, she saw a mass of black flame. Only with a quick raise of her shield was she spared. Raska heard the bloathead cackling above her, and looked for a stairwell of some sort. She found one the outside wall of the building, with no guard or railing against the fall below.

“Why is this damn city so precarious?” She grumbled to herself. Kicking in a door, her glaive made short work of the caster. But as the blood sprayed across the walls, Raska could hear the cackling yet again. This time, it echoed across the city. As she exited the building, she saw that the bloadheads had laid wooden planks across a gap between two buildings. They stood still, and pointed at the planks. “What the hell?” Raska said. With glaive and shield in hand, she slowly crossed the makeshift bridge. As soon as her feet touched the other side, the two bloatheads laughed. A black orb emerged from a nearby building, striking the planks and destroying the bridge.

“Fuck!” Raska said, and whirled around to face her assumed attackers. They merely stood still, pointing to a door into the building. Raska hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked forward with her shield up. Her curiosity had gotten her into this, but her will could get herself out.

Inside the room, two more bloatheads pointed to a panel on the ground. Raska recognized these; the strange magic platforms of Oolacile. Suspended by nothing but light, they were capable of impossible travel. And it seemed that the bloatheads wanted her to get on it. With a deep sigh, she stepped on, and crouched down on one knee to keep her balance as the panel descended down into the ground. It halted in a dungeon covered by the black veins of the Abyss. Raska slung the shield and glaive on her back, drew a straight sword, and pulled a lit torch from the wall. Only once it was in her hand did she realize that it was already lit. Someone was expecting her. 

No bloatheads met her as she walked through this strange dungeon, but she could hear their cackles through the walls. The laughs came at short bursts, then others would laugh. It almost sounded like they were talking. But Raska knew the truth. There was nothing sane left in these things. Their sounds were little more than the barking of dogs, or the calling of birds. Yet why were they leading her here?

Raska turned a corner, and all she could see were teeth. Two massive rows of massive teeth. They opened, and a voice roared out. "DOUSE THAT!"

Raska dropped the torch to grab her shield. The torch rolled a few feet forward, and fell off an unseen ledge. Raska held the shield up, and squared herself for battle with whatever could possibly possess such a large mouth. Amazingly, the teeth were still visible. As were the eyes above them. "What the hell?" Raska said.

"My apologies." The creature said. It was calm now, and Raska realized she had seen such a being before. 

"You're a primordial serpent." She said. 

"And you are a being from times yet to happen." It said. "We seem to be acquainted, yet I know not your name, nor you mine."

"My name is Raska" She said. There was no reason to hide it.

"My name is Wayfarer Thaak" the serpent said, it's teeth clicking. "Of who of my kin are you familiar?"

"Kaathe and Frampt." Raska said.

Thaak stretched his head back and laughed. "Hahahaha! Frampt and Kaathe! One a delusional, the other an idealist. I am sorry that you met those two."

Raska didn't particularly favor either, but this seemed unwarranted. "What makes them so?"

"Framp clings to Fire like an old man who stubbornly refuses to part ways with the old. He fails to see that should he kindle the fire, it will fade again, and humanity will be locked in a cycle until there is no more life or humanity to link the fire with."

"And what of Kaathe?"

"Kaathe may speak of the lineage of that pygmy, but in truth it is he who wishes to rule the Dark Age. He desires to rule as a king over humanity."

"And what is your dream?" Raska asked. 

The serpent paused for a moment. It's bulging forehead tightened. "I seek to escape this world. It was my design that the citizens of Oolacile perfect the art of portals across space and time. The soapstones are childs tools compared to what they are accomplishing."

"Accomplished." Raska replied. "They're all mad now."

Thaak smiled. "No. They are transformed. And relearning what has been lost." A rumble tore through the dungeon. "In the chasm below me, Oolacile's masterpiece is nearing completion. We will bring the citizens of Oolacile, and the abyss from which they are now formed, to another world. One not threatened by the fading of life and the squabbling of serpents." The dungeon rumbled again. Pieces of brick and stone fell from the ceiling. "Ah, what glory! And you are here to witness it!"

Raska struggled to keep her footing. Was it true? Could an entire city be taken by the convulsions of the world. What could she do? Did she do something?

"Embrace this!" Thaak shouted, his head swinging around dangerously. "Let Oolacile remake this land in my image!" With one thunderous shake of the ground, Raska was knocked to her feet. She heard a wind rushing over her, and the world was dark once more.


	2. Chapter 2

Isenwen looked up from her map, and asked the messenger to repeat himself.

“I said the darkspawn have left the Bannorn of Calon.”

She didn’t believe it. “They…left. Did they advance?”

The messenger shook his head. “No, warden. They pulled back.”

“That was one of the first places to fall to the Darkspawn. What are they doing?” Alistair said.

“I don’t know. I was only instructed to give you that.” The young boy said, straightening up. “Do you want me to pass something along to Arl Eamon.”

“Tell him to move in to secure Calon, but be cautious. It may be a diversion.” Alistair said.

“Yes sir.” The boy ran off as the two moved to the map they had spread out.

“Calon too, now.” Isewen said, moving a small wooden peg back from the Bannorn of Calon back to the Kocari Wilds. “They’re retreating.”

“Why?” Alistair scrunched his face. “There’s been no report of a buildup anywhere. Calon would have been their springboard into Redcliffe. There’s no reason for what they’re doing.”

Isewen stared at the map, then stood straight up. “Assemble the camp.”

Alistair nodded. “At once.” The two of them walked out of the tent, and he cupped his hands and shouted “Camp, assemble!”

“Emissaries as well!” Isewen called out. Slowly at first, then increasing in number, the allies of the Grey Wardens spilled out of their tents. It was not quite so long into the night, but some party members preferred an early sleep. Isewen looked over them all as they lined up in front of the two Wardens. It was so rare that she saw the whole party assembled like this. Sten, the rough Qunari, and Oghren, the brutish dwarf. Zevran, the assassin whom Isewen had left alive for some reason (but assigned Sten to keep an ever present eye on). Wynne, the healing mage. Lelianna, the curious priestess. Morrigan, the even more curious apostate. And Ostagar, the loyal dog. “Friends,” Isewen began. “I’m sure by now you have heard of the Darkspawn’s retreat.”

“Hail to that!” Oghren called out. “The sooner the surface is safe, the sooner the warriors of Orzammar can return to their duty.”

“To our knowledge, they have not retreated from the surface completely.” Isewen said. “But it is clear that they have abandoned many of their gains in Ferelden. This is not due to any great loss that we can discern, nor is the blight over. So we can only assume that they are planning something, something that requires a great number of darkspawn.” She hesitated for a moment. Was it worth it to bring forth the idea, if it spread unnecessary panic. “I believe that the retreating forces are heading to the Deep Roads, to attempt an all-out assault on Orzammar.”

Immediately, a stir rippled through the camp. The emissary of Orzammar stood up. “What proof have you of this?!”

“None.” Isewen said. “This is entirely conjecture. But the abandonment of Gwaren, White River, AND Calon shows that they have lost all interest in the surface. Whatever the darkspawn are planning, it will begin in the Deep Roads.” The assembled murmured amongst themselves. “Dalish emissary, how well do you your people know the Kocari Wilds?”

“As well as you would know a place you have been to twice, but not committed to memory.” The emissary replied.

“Could you patrol it?” She asked.

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “As long as you don’t expect us to offer stalwart defense should the darkspawn organize another thrust.”

Isewen shook her head. “Your task will be to keep watch for such a thrust, and pass the information along to Arl Eamon’s men. They will stay behind on the surface, at the ready to respond to another darkspwan offensive.”

“What of Loghain? We are still in open conflict with him.” The emissary of Redcliffe spoke up.

“I expect you to defend your holdings from all threats.” Isewen said. “But the darkspawn are the priority.”

“Warden,” Wynne raised her hand, “you said that the forces of the Dalish and Recliffe would remain on the surface. What do you intend for the Templar forces?”

“I’m going to take the dwarves, the mages, and the Templars, and march into the Deep Roads.” Isewen said. This elicited a round of hoots and war cries from Oghren and the Orzammar emissary.

“Isewen, may I speak with you?” Alistair whispered to her.

“After we’re done.” She whispered back. “Are we all in agreement?” Nodding and grunts of agreement came from those assembled. If anyone had any objections, they did not voice them. “This is still a danger.” Isewen said. “Just because the darkspawn are out of sight does not mean that they are gone. And if they are coalescing, we may be facing an army larger than even Orlais can muster. So remain cautious, and ready. Dismissed.”

As soon as she said that, Alistair turned to face her. “Are you certain the Templars are willing to fight in the Deep Roads? I don’t even know if I want to return there.”

“We won’t be going so far down.” Isewen said. “But Orzammar is the pin that the rest of Ferelden balances on. If it falls, there will be little to nothing stopping the Darkspawn from flooding out into the world. The Templars will be a necessity to defend it in the event of an all out assault.”

“And if the assault comes from somewhere else?” Alistair asked.

“Where?” She said, turning around and walking back into the tent.


End file.
